A Steaming Hot Mess
by PoorEiM
Summary: The kids have started a new game. It started as a war between genders, only to be complicated by the rise of bandit factions. Multiple factions invited the New Kid to join, but were all rebuffed. Little did they suspect the New Kid was already playing in secret. Too bad that secrets are meant to be uncovered. Warning: casual racism, sexism and trans-phobia, because South Park.
1. Chapter 1

_In an age when the world was filled iron and soot, in which political power came from steam, and technology was almost indistinguishable from magic, two great sovereigns waged war. One of them was Bawlz-Ak, a good old-fashioned kingdom of men, ruled by a super-powerful, super-awesome king._

 _But we speak of times that weren't so awesome for the kingdom. For it was being encroached from the west by an aggressive matriarchal Gla'Moor empire. Led by a ruthless empress, the imperial invaders sought to enslave all men, and sissify all that was masculine with the dreaded icon of the unicorn._

 _Armed with witchcraft enhanced by infernal devices, imperial armies of wiener-hating amazonian tyrants quickly conquered much of Bawlz-Ak's mass. Until finally their advance was halted by brave warrior men, aided by the kingdom's clever alchemists and machinists._

 _But then the war's outcome became more uncertain, as both nations faced growing danger from within in the form of traitorous brigands. The eastern borders of Bawlz-Ak were devastated by the "Chaos Raiders," led by a mad scientist who invented the most diabolic war machines ever. Meanwhile, the western reaches of Gla'Moor had been razed by barbarians known only as "the Huns," led by a pair of savage women who killed with brutal efficiency._

 _Just as the future already seemed bleakest, Bawlz-Ak's spy network brought more troubling news to their king. Both the Gla'Moors and Chaos Raiders were seeking a mythical warrior, one said to have traveled through the gates of time to restore balance and bring unity. The super-cool king of Bawlz-Ak, in his superior wisdom, realized he needed to find the legendary hero first. For if such power were to fall into wicked hands, doom would be upon the world._

* * *

" _That's_ your plan, fatass," Stan deadpanned, "pester the new kid yet again, and expect different results."

"What, you got a better plan?" Cartman challenged with his usual indignation, "last time I checked, your stupid landship got wrecked in battle."

"I've got an idea," Craig said with his trademark sarcasm, "it's called 'lets talk later somewhere more private than the fucking cafeteria'." He then popped a tater tot in his mouth for emphasis.

"I'm the king!" Cartman shouted, "and I say we talk now! We don't have time to waste after school!"

"Brilliant, your majesty," Kyle rolled his eyes, "just in case Butters or the girls weren't already trying to eavesdrop."

"Shut your fucking Jewhole!" Cartman petulantly folded his arms.

"A-ah!" Tweek dropped his fork, "there's too much shouting."

"Look," Cartman adopted his 'serious' tone, "the girls and the raiders are both trying the same thing. It's only a matter of time before one of them makes Douchebag an offer he can't refuse. Our only chance is to beat them to it. We have to make that offer first."

"Mm mmwa mommuh mumma me?" Kenny asked, having just finished his free lunch.

"That's a stupid question, Kenny," Cartman snapped, "one of us has to spend more time with him. Spy on him."

"Bu-but that's just wrong, ah!" Tweek was twitching noticeably more.

"Well maybe we could afford to play nice," Cartman raised his voice, "if you picked a better character than a one-armed alchemist and didn't fuck up the last fight."

"Don't yell at him," Craig stood up, anger in his voice.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Cartman put his hands on his cheeks, "did I ruin your romantic, candlelight dinner?"

"Whatever," Craig grabbed his food tray, "I don't feel like watching His Fatness go Fukushima again. Come on Tweek."

"Oh, thank Christ!" he didn't need to be told twice.

"Su~ure," it was Cartman's turn to roll his eyes, "go puss out with Douchebag."

"Maybe we will," Craig flipped the bird without looking back.

Just then, Jimmy, Timmy, and Clyde approached the table, fully-loaded trays in hand. "There was a h-hold up in the l-line," Jimmy explained.

"Timmy!" Clyde and Jimmy took over the freshly vacated seats as Timmy wheeled up to the table edge.

Clyde picked-up his fork. "What did we miss?"

* * *

"...and then Tweek said he wanted to be an alchemist with a metal arm like the Fullmetal Alchemist," Scott Malkinson explained, "and he wanted Craig to play his brother. But his majesty King Eldrick Carterman... That's Eric steampunk name, by the way..." Sitting next to Scott, quietly listening to his story, was a black child who wore a navy blue shirt and a purple beanie. "King Carterman had already decreed Craig as our landship admiral, Orville Whowood. I was worried this was going to turn into a fight. So I stepped in and said, 'if Tweek needs a brother, I can be his brother.' But I hadn't watched Fullmetal Alchemist, so I only found out later that his brother's soul was trapped in a big suit of armor, like a robot. So I looked up 'steampunk robot images' and..." the new kid kept eating while listening to Scott. It did sound like the boys were having fun, despite Cartman.

"Hey Douchebag, ah! Scott," Tweek interrupted them as he and Craig approached their table.

"Mind if we sit here?" Craig took a seat opposite of Scott before he finished asking, "I've had enough of Roseanne's rants for one day."

"The more the merrier," Scott happily said, "I was just telling the New Kid about how I came up with my costume," he turned back the new kid, "so I finished building the costume before I found out that picture was from Bioshock, which wasn't even steampunk. But the king let me keep it anyways because the drill arm was awesome."

"The drill arm is nice an' all," Butters approached the table with a full tray, "but my lightning gun landship is even more powerful," he sat down next to the new kid, "sorry I'm late. I was the last in line, and the line stopped moving for some reason. Anyway, I invented a big lightning gun," a smile spread across his face, "and mounted it on a landship. It was slow moving so I had to take some armor off. But nobody gets close enough to damage it anyways, so it works real nice."

"Nice?! Ah!" Tweek didn't share Butter's enthusiasm, "you destroyed entire towns. Aa-ah!"

"Calm down Tweek," Craig took his boyfriend's hand, "it's just a game."

"True," Scott added, "but it did take us a whole hour to rebuild. And we're running out of cardboard and duct tape. So it's not hard to see why Eric's upset. We're not doing too well."

"All the more reason for you to surrender," gloated Butters, "you guys can't even beat the girls. But you betcha the Chaos Raiders can."

"Whatever," Craig shrugged.

"Bu-but Craig," Tweek pleaded, "we're **losing!** Ah!"

"We can't win them all," Craig gently patted Tweek's shoulder, "sometimes it's not worth it anyway," he then turned to Douchebag, "speaking of which, King Fatass wants to strong-arm you into joining us. Don't let him."

"Hey!" Cartman yelled from the other table, "I heard that you butt-fucking traitor!"

Craig flipped him off without looking away from Douchebag, "every time you join these games, things get weirder than usual. I'm fine with you sitting this out."

"And you're still invited to play Star Trek Bridge Crew," added Kevin Stoley.

"Ah! Where'd you come from Kevin?!"

"Um, I was here the whole time," Kevin was a bit perplexed by Tweek's question, "you sat down right next to me."

Butters swallowed more food then said, "Butthole ain't just sitting it out, you guys."

"What?! A-ah-ah!" Tweek and Scott were taken aback, and Craig glanced between Douchebag and Butters suspiciously.

"Did'ya forget? He set up that social media hub for us."

"Oh, _that_ ," Craig rolled his eyes. Of course it turned out to be nothing.

"Oh yeah," Scott brought his hand up to this chin, "what was it called again?"

"A masturbate instance," Tweek giggled at Craig's joke.

"Mastodon," Kevin corrected, "and an instance is like a franchise for..."

"Ugh," Craig's earlier hint wasn't enough, "don't care."

"So-o," Scott asked "you still seeing that speech therapist, New Kid?"

After a moment of awkward glancing, "yep," Craig said, "we totally didn't expect that."

"Don't worry, buddy" Butters patted Douchebag's back, "it's fine if you don't talk."

"Yeah," Tweek added, "we're here for you."

"You can count on us, et cetera," Craig was as compassionate as ever.

"There is one thing about this game that interests me," said Kevin, "one of The Hun's leaders, Scourge Lydia."

"I thought you were going steady with Red?" asked Butters.

"What?" Kevin blinked, "no, I meant there's something strange about her."

"She's from out of town," said Craig, "we figured that much out."

"Really?" asked Kevin, "how do you figure that?"

"Gee, let's see here," Craig pretended to open a notepad, "she's black. There's only three black kids at this school. Douchebag ain't playing, Nicole is with the empire, and Token is with us. So-o-o..."

"Point taken," Kevin stared down at his tray for a second before continuing, "but I was actually getting at how she's getting lots of followers quickly, despite wearing a mask in all her selfies, and nobody knowing who she is. Except for the other leader, Attila Jessie."

"Isn't that Jessica Rodriguez? Ah!"

"She's doesn't seem be telling anyone who her partner really is," Scott noted, "but you've been hanging out with her during school lately, haven't you New Kid? Maybe you could try asking her," Douchebag stared at Scott, "if you're curious that is."

"Maybe you _should_ ask her," said Butters, "for your own sake. I mean, if she's making so many friends online so fast, maybe she has a similar gift for social media as you do. Shucks, why not?"

"And according to everyone who met her in person, she talks a lot," Kevin added, "so-o opposites attract?" everyone looked at Kevin, "what. I'm just saying the two of them might hit it off."

"Su-ure," oh Craig, the poe-faced straight-talker "that's why Douchebag is hanging out with Jessie, to bang some stranger."

"Ah! Don't pick on Douche… Huh?! Ah!" Tweek stopped when he noticed an odd look in Douchebag's eyes. It was only there for less than a second, too quick to know what it was. But while the other kids didn't notice it, they did notice Tweek's reaction. They all fell silent.

...for a second. "Wait," Scott broke it, "so you _like_ Jessica?"

"New Kid and Jes-sie," Kevin started to sing, "sittin' in a tree..."

"No singing," Craig interrupted "except around my fist in your mouth."

Kevin sank back, "I'm sorry."

"But she's a bandit leader. Ah! And then there's the things people say about her. That she's a slut who's been with many boys... Ah! And she even went to the abortion clinic once."

"Hmm, she does sound like someone who could toy with your heart," said Scott, "and then just as easily run a sword through it."

"Aw, but what's life without a little," Butters paused dramatically, " **chaos?** Mwa, ha, ha," he then quickly straightened up, "but seriously Butthole, be careful around her. It'd be a shame if she hurt you," he didn't expect Douchebag to look away like he just did. Butters follow his gaze to a clock on the wall, "oh hamburgers! Lunch is almost over," he started devouring his food in haste, as Douchebag stood up and went to dump his tray.

"See ya New Kid," Scott waved him off.

"Ah! Later man."

"Live long and prosper."

"Mm," _gulp_ , "bye Butthole."

"Don't let her bite your wiener off."

"Cra-aig! Ah!"

* * *

Outside the cafeteria, the New Kid glanced around the empty halls. Finally alone, a long suppressed smirk crept onto _her_ face. The boys still hadn't pieced together the truth. Though they did get too close for comfort.

Craig's off-hand joke about being _with_ Jessica Rodriguez unexpectedly fired-up her imagination. And dammit, she slipped and didn't quite hide her reaction. But it was probably a blessing in disguise, as it provided misdirection just when she needed it most. Then again, the more she thought about it, the more likely it seemed that such rumors were already spreading anyway.

The most immediate problem was trying to stop thinking about it. It didn't help that she was indeed looking for Jessie right then.

"Over here 'Hun'," she heard Jessica call out. And that was another likely reason people jumped to conclusions. Jessie may have kept tight-lipped about her identity, but she really needed to work on the art of subtlety. Especially since she seemed to have chosen the 'Cissies' restroom for this meeting. "Inside quick," she said as she glanced around.

* * *

Author's notes: First of all, yes this a Fem New Kid story.

Second, I ask any steampunk devotees and/or aficionados reading this story to curb their expectations if they haven't already. As you might have guessed, I'm pretty ignorant of steampunk, despite being interested enough to write a story with it. There will be some steampunk themed battles and play, but they're not the focus of this story. Which brings me to...

Third, this is primarily about character drama, angst, and comedy. Hopefully the last will at least be worth a grain of salt.


	2. Chapter 2

Of all who serve in the court of Empress Beale Stevenson, the one Her Highness trusted most was her chief spy, Lady Winifred Threlefall. Skilled in the espionage arts of infiltration, stealth, and disguise, there was no place beyond Lady Winifred's reach. She had never failed Her Highness.

...until yesterday.

She was tasked with infiltrating The Huns hideout to steal the day's battle-plan. But she was also ordered to uncover the identities of The Huns' leaders. Which meant Scourge Lydia of course, since everyone already knew Attila Jessie was actually the scandalous streetwalker Jessica Rodriguez.

It was easy enough to find The Huns' battle plan, which revealed they would set out within the hour to take Bicycle, a peaceful village without any defenses stationed nearby. She cleanly stole the plan using her etherometer, which could capture a ghost image more accurate than any portrait, and used the device's ethereal connection to quickly transmit the enemy's plan. That action would later prove decisive in saving the village of Bicycle.

As for Scourge however, she was wearing her polar bear mask just like all reported sightings noted. And getting close to Scourge was a challenge due to the size of the crowd and the limited cover. As Lady Winifred listened to Scourge address the barbarian horde with her honeyed contralto voice, she contemplated her next course of action. But then she happened to make eye contact with her. It was for but a second. And yet, there was a sense of familiarity. Her survival instincts screamed at her to flee before she was recognized in turn. But her self-discipline reigned-in such rashness. She then calmly excused herself in a more discrete manner.

Once out of sight, Lady Winifred steeled her nerves and reassessed the situation. More importantly, she contemplated to recollect who the enemy reminded her of. After uncounted minutes, the realization clicked like a picked lock: a friend.

But it made no sense. The friend she was thinking of had shown no interest in the war in the east, nor the barbarian uprising in the west. Was that but a ruse? And what of their friendship? She was always secretive and quiet, but Lady Winifred assumed her friend would confide in her when she was ready. The idea that she would sooner confide in a savage brigand was preposterous.

But then, if those weren't her eyes, then whose?

Lady Winifred couldn't bring herself to condemn her friend without proof, and so she reported her failure to learn anything about Scourge Lydia. Lies are one a spy's more familiar tools, but she had never told one when addressing her regent before. That shame would haunt her, no matter how the situation was resolved. There was no turning back. Lady Winifred needed to know the truth, no matter what it cost her.

Her opportunity came early the next day, during one of the frequent ceasefires colloquially known as "school." She spotted her suspected friend in civilian guise, and followed her. She felt a pang of guilt for stalking her. But then she recollected her own feelings of betrayal the day before, and steeled her resolve.

Sure enough, Lady Winifred soon witnessed her meet with Attila in her own civilian guise. But the meeting was too brief to be conclusive. And given her friend's ambiguous inclinations, she couldn't dismiss the possibility that she would speak with the notorious streetwalker for the more obstinate reason.

Later on in the ceasefire, she found another opportunity to observe her quarry. Her friend had left the mess hall early. But the halls were empty, so she couldn't directly follow without being spotted. Instead, she hastily traversed a parallel path. But as she turned a corner, she spotted Attila. Fortune smiled, as the promiscuous barbarian queen had turned her back to Winifred. She tarried behind the corner a moment to plan her next move.

There was no clock easily readable from her position, so she referred to her etherometer instead. Mess was about to end, which meant the halls would soon be crowded. She speculated her targets might attempt to meet out of plain sight while they had more time to spare. Then she deduced the nearby lavatories were the logical place to meet. Calling upon her stealth skills, she crept into a lavatory in advance of her quarry, and hoped it wasn't the wrong one.

Once inside, she entered a chamber. But when she reached to close the door, she realized her etherometer was still in her hand, "over here, hun," Attila's voice called out. Winifred silently cursed her haste, but further haste was ironically the only solution. She quickly tucked the etherometer in her pocket, closed the door, and stood upon the chamber pot to hide her feet. And not a moment too soon, for she immediate heard Attila speak again, "inside quick."

Lady Winifred barely had enough time to realize how poorly she planned this course. If they checked the chamber doors rather than quickly glance beneath them, she would be caught. In addition, if her suspicion was wrong, then she was about to be in a _different_ sort of scandalous situation than one she presumed. But escape was no longer possible. She had to stay the course, come what may.

"So," Attila spoke first, "I just heard back from Rough Diamond. And she..."

"I'm sorry but..." a familiar voice interrupted.

Lady Winifred's heart sank. That voice sounded more soft-spoken than the one that addressed the gathered Huns the day before. But it was definitely the same.

"Huh?"

"Uh, well, it's seems everyone thinks were… Um, dating or something."

"Oh? ...oh! Eh, heh heh," Attila sounded embarrassed, "I guess I didn't think about how it looked. Sorry."

"Well, I guess it's…" Winifred's friend traitor sounded a bit flustered as well, "um, a good cover for our meetings. Uh, I... I mean, it's better than everyone finding out who I am," the treacherous Scourge hastily added that last part.

 _Ka-klack!_ A noise startled Lady Winifred. She looked down at the source of the noise.

 _...her etherometer!_ She didn't quite fit it into her pocket. Twice damn her haste! Now she faced the humiliating scandal of a spy of her renown committing a greenhorn's folly and being caught for it. And worse, a personal confrontation she wasn't ready for.

* * *

"Is that someone's phone?" Jessie's words snapped her out of her self-recrimination. There was nothing to gain from delay. Wendy stepped back down to the floor, recovered her phone, and then opened the stall door. "Imperial scum! I should've known."

But she ignored Jessie and faced her treacherous friend, "so _this_ is how I meet the real you," she tried to keep her voice level, "how I learn your real name. How I first hear your voice."

Jessie opened her mouth.

"I'm..." only for Lydia to speak first, "I'm sorry, Wendy," her eyes directed at the floor.

"Sorry? For treating me like a stranger over a game?" anger started to creep into Wendy's voice.

"It's not just the game," Lydia looked up, "the stakes are…" she trailed off, "I... can't say. It's complicated."

"But why can't you tell _me_? Why did you instead talk to someone you barely know? Why not..." Wendy trailed off when she noticed a strange sadness in Lydia's eyes. Good, she should feel bad about this.

"What's the matter," Jessie broke the silence, "slipped off your high horse?"

"Stay out of this, barbarian!"

"Leave Lydia alone, you stuck up..."

Lydia quickly stepped between them, "no! This is my fault," she said the Jessie. Then she turned back to Wendy, "I was trying to keep you from having to choose between me and Bebe."

"What?!" Wendy raised her voice a bit, "that's my choice. What gives you the right to choose for me? How can you have so little respect?"

Lydia winced. But then, as if a switch was flipped, her face resumed the familiar expressionless blank.

Jessie snorted, "typical imperial self-righteousness."

Wendy didn't look away from Lydia, "so it's like that, huh? Fine. I challenge you to a duel. The loser becomes the winner's prisoner, and has to answer _all_ the winner's questions."

"Fine," Lydia said, her voice just above a whisper, "between five-thirty and six at the imperial palace."

"Fine," Wendy turned to leave, "saves me the trouble of dragging you to the dungeon."

"Fine," Jessie said to her back, "go back to Bebe for now and lick her boots!"

"Fine!" Wendy shouted over her shoulder.

" **Fine!** " Jessie shouted back.

* * *

A moment after Wendy left, Jessie turned back to Lydia, "what was that about?"

"I could ask you that," Lydia relaxed her face and looked at her feet, "but I guess it doesn't matter."

"I was just trying to stay in character," Jessie quickly said to reassure her, "no biggie. But..." she sighed, realizing reassurance was probably moot, "but she _knows_ who you are now. Is that going to be a problem?"

Lydia shook her head, "she won't tell. I know that much."

"Okay then," Jessie shrugged, "if you say so..."Jessie trailed off as she tried to remember something. Then her eyes lit up, "oh, hey! Can you ask your folks if I can sleep over at your place tonight? My mom already said it's okay."

Lydia blinked, "what?"

"Well if today goes as planned, then tomorrow is gonna be an even bigger day," Jessie was talking quickly, "and if not, then we're gonna have to figure out what to do next instead. Either way we're gonna need to talk about it tonight."

"We..." Lydia was stunned, "...we could do that on our phones. Why..."

"Yeah, yeah," Jessie rolled her eyes, "I know it's supposed to be all business. But..." she took a deep breath, "but I'm so excited now that our plan is this close that it's eating me up," she was back to talking fast, "I need to relax. But my mom has work tonight and I can't relax when I'm home alone. I need company and I promise you won't regret it. Ple-ease?"

"I..." Lydia's brain practically broke down. She couldn't think of a way to refuse, and was trying to deny to herself that she wanted to say "yes" anyway, "I'll ask them."

"Thank you!" Jessie suddenly gave her a bear hug. As her cheeks flushed, the wall suddenly seemed much more interesting to look at, "I'll bring the karaoke box."

"Sure," Lydia belatedly returned the hug. After a moment, she remembered… Well, _something_ , "wait, weren't you about to tell me something before Wendy showed up?"

"Hmm," Jessie released her and focused for a moment. Lydia felt relieved. This meeting had felt many kinds of awkward to her.

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. "Time to go. Guess you'll have to text me later," Lydia tried to slip away.

"Wait!" Jessie caught her wrist, "Rough Diamond's message!"

"Oh, yeah," Lydia leaned close and whispered, "what is it?"

"The Gla'Moors plan to invade Bawlz-Ak at five," Jessie whispered back, "they're aiming to take the plains of Frenulum."

"Plenty of time for _our_ plan," Lydia turned to go.

"Oh, and it's your turn to bring snacks to the meeting," Jessie said to her back, "see you after school, 'Hun'."

Of course she wouldn't get out of _that_ so easily. "Yeah, see ya," Lydia put her blank expression back on as she left.

* * *

Shortly after school that day, half of the boys of Bawlz-Ak had gathered at Cartman's front yard outside the main gates of the royal castle. Normally, their daily meetings were conducted in the backyard courtyard. However, the landship fleet was making last-minute preparations before heading into battle.

"Chop-chop Professor Ruby-Edgar," Cartman barked at Stan, "hurry the fuck up so we go kick Butters' ass already." King Eldrick Carterman wore a paper fast-food crown instead of a hat. He wore a blue coat with a white shirt. He had a crimson cape and matching crimson pants. Underneath the cape was a concealed gun-holster containing a toy flintlock cap pistol. Around his waist (itself being no small feat) he wore a belt with a gold-handled plastic sword and sheath. He held a plastic scepter in his right hand and the fingers on his left hand bore costume rings.

"It's not like you thought of anything that can stop Chaos' lighting gun," Stan said before driving in another screw with his dad's power drill. The kingdom's chief engineer, Professor Clayton Ruby-Edgar, wore a brown leather cap with soot-stained goggles. He also wore a brown coat with a blue shirt, black pants, and brown boots. Around his waist he wore a black utility belt. (except it's a yellow Batman utility belt that's been painted over)

"Sure I have," Carterman said matter-of-fact, "just send a brave volunteer pilot to sacrifice himself and ram his landship into the enemy."

"I didn't volunteer for shit," said Craig. Admiral Orville Whowood wore a white naval officer costume hat, and a brown belt with dual gun holsters. The holsters contained more toy flintlocks, and had a wooden knife crudely tucked in past the left holster. Otherwise, Craig Admiral Orville wore his usual clothes.

"Sure you did," Carterman said over the sound of the drill, "when you blabbed out our plans for the New Kid like a backstabbing bag of dicks."

"Sorry, didn't hear that" Orville flipped him off, "too busy not giving a shit."

Clayton drove one last screw into place, "a-and done." He took a second to admire his handiwork: a crude semi-dome of chicken wire secured to a Power Wheels Jeep.

"Okay," Orville said nonplussed, "what is it?"

"A Faraday cage," Clayton said, "now the lightning gun can't damage your landship."

"How do I get in?"

Clayton paused for a moment, "oops. Gimme a few more minutes."

Carterman looked down and pinched the bridge of his nose, "god fucking dammit."

"I don't see you helping," Clayton said as he removed a screw on one side.

Carterman opened his mouth.

"He's the king," Kyle said first. The gun-mage Calvin Gold-Brewer (a name Cartman insisted on) wore a green-painted leather cap with goggles stained with splats of different colors. He wore an unbuttoned, gray trench-coat, also with multiple colored stains. The open front showed a similarly stained "Fingerbang" shirt inside. Around his waist was a belt with a holstered pump air gun. The belt also held multiple ammo pods, each containing a different color of gel orbs.

"Uh, yeah," Cartrtman was surprised to hear Kyle Calvin take his side, "that's right."

"So it's his royal prerogative," Calvin explained, "to sit on his throne and play with himself."

"Hey!" Carterman shouted over everyone's giggling.

"Mis mammermy mormmamim mrome," added Kenny, resulting in more laughter from everyone else. Royal bodyguard Guy McCorvo wore an orange parka. (big surprise, I know) Under the hood he wore an old robot Halloween mask, peeling apart on the left side. Across his waist he wore an old, frayed imitation leather belt with a wooden sword on the right and a flintlock cap gun on the left. A piece of paper with a made-up rune was taped onto the back of his left hand.

"Grr," Carterman stopped himself and tried to play it cool, "very funny guys."

"Ye-yeah," Clayton stopped laughing long enough to add, "which he royally clogs up."

"That does it!" Carterman shouted again over a stronger bout of laughter, "I am the king, and you will respect my authora-tah!"

The laughter died down just in time to hear the distinct sound of Count Blackmore's electric-quad land-yatch. "Guys!" Token called to the others, "the Chaos Raiders are on the move!" Count Tobias Blackmore wore a store-bought costume. It consistied of a black gentleman's coat down to his knees, with lining and stand-up collar that were both burgundy, and sheer white trimmed cuffs. A matching burgundy vest was visible underneath the coat. On his head, he wore a black top hat. He carried a latex sword-cane. His coat bulged on his left side, where it concealed a foam dart pistol. "They were last seen at the Roasters of Underpants," Token Count Blackmore explained, "headed towards the Courtyard of Baskets."

"Get your shit together Professor!" Carterman barked, "we gotta go!"

"Fuck," Clayton produced twist ties from his pocket, "time for a quick fix," he lifted the newly loosened side of the cage, "climb in Admiral."

* * *

Lydia walked across town, feeling haunted by her confrontation with Wendy. She knew she was taking a lot of risks, but that day had made them feel more… Well, _real_. She had figured that once it was over, when (most of) her secrets were finally out, her friends would be upset with her for awhile but only until they got over it. Until she saw that preview first-hand.

She shook her head to clear out such thoughts. There was far more at stake than that, and it was too late to change plans now. She'd have to stick with her choices.

Lydia sighed as she looked around the entrance to Sloppy Seconds. Satisfied that nobody was watching, she entered, and hurried to the changing booth. Once inside, she took off her beanie, revealing an odd bun of blue hair. With practiced ease, she quickly changed out of her regular clothes and into her costume. Scourge Lydia wore a fuzzy brown sweater fur coat. Around her waist was a black imitation leather belt with a wooden sword on her left side and a black maraca tucked inside at her right. Around her neck was a skull & crossbones pendant painted pink. On her feet were tan fur boots.

She quickly checked herself in the mirror. She donned a white shag rug fur cape. Then she reached a hand up into her bun (her _hair,_ wtf were _you_ thinking of?) and pulled out a pick. Her bun unraveled down past her shoulders, straight and loose. Finally, she covered the top half of her face with a cute, smiling white bear mask with the bottom half cut-off, leaving her mouth and neck exposed.

Thus the "New Kid" vanished for the day, and the terrifying Shaman Chief of the Huns appeared to once again enchant her army of savages and tear down progressive civilization.

After a stop at City Wok, of course. Mister Kim might be a dick, but she wasn't about to send her Huns into battle with empty stomachs.

* * *

Author's notes: I apologize for taking so long. At first, I wasn't happy with how this chapter turned out, and wanted to fix a lot of it. And that led to me procrastinating. And then the new season of SP began. And finished. And still I didn't get back in the saddle. I finally made myself do it, improved what I could, and I'm still not content with this chapter. But it's time to move on. The ETA on chapter 3 is sometime in 2021. j/k (I hope)

Speaking of chapter 3, that's when we'll finally see some battles.

I also apologize to those who tried to comment on the previous chapter. Apparently I turned on an option to approve comments before allowing them to be posted, then completely forgot about it. Why? I forget that too. That should be fixed by the time you're read this so it won't happen again.


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